


The Ever Turning Tide

by TheDVirus



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is Batman, Drowning, Emotional Baggage, Enemies, Enemies to Friends, Frenemies, Future Fic, Heist, Injury Recovery, M/M, Male Friendship, Museums, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, Reconciliation, Sexual Tension, Treasure Hunting, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 03:59:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11569866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDVirus/pseuds/TheDVirus
Summary: Ed and Oz (still at odds with each other) must deal with a dangerous situation when a heist goes wrong.From an Anonymous Request prompt on Tumblr





	The Ever Turning Tide

‘Well, well, cut the alarms and the vultures start circling’, Ed said sourly as he heard Oswald’s distinctive tread enter the room.

He shut the control panel in frustration. He stood, adjusting his bowler hat, readying himself for discussion to come.  
He was unsure of his relationship with Oswald these days (which at times seemed almost amicable) but he knew better than to assume Oswald’s presence at the museum was a coincidence.  
It must have been easy for Oswald to get in since Ed had already disabled the main security cameras.

‘I simply outsourced the technical work’, Oswald said, resting his umbrella on his shoulder as he sauntered towards Ed, ‘Computer systems aren’t my specialty’.

Ed narrowed his eyes at the loud clicking Oswald’s shoes made on the hard floor of the museum. Did he lack any concept of stealth?!

‘But you’re more than capable of bribing security guards to help me get in’, Ed grumbled as he realised why Oswald was not bothering to be quiet, ‘I knew it was too easy’.

Oswald smirked at Ed’s resentment. It wasn’t quite as delicious as proving Ed wrong but Oswald could settle for Ed realising his success was not entirely of his own making. 

‘Please, take anything you like as compensation for the damage to your ego’, he said magnanimously.

He waved his umbrella in a wide arc, indicating every antique and treasure in the room. The exhibit had been set up to promote some of the museum’s newest acquisitions before they would be catalogued and transferred to their relevant sections.  
There was a wide range of tempting trinkets on display including jewels owned by Russian royalty, a golden Roman helmet and an Egyptian death mask. 

‘Let me guess, anything except what I came here for?’ Ed asked.

‘Depends what you’re here for doesn’t it?’

‘I’m here for these’, Ed said and lifted the glass case off the plinth. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when the alarm did not sound: it seemed he had been successful in disarming it.

There was no point in lying.  
A pair of carved wooden ravens, plain save for their gold beaded eyes sat on a plush red cushion, their weathered texture unassuming and almost dull compared to their more ornate fellows.  
Ed glared at Oswald’s smirk as he watched Ed gently lifted the carvings.  
He had been hoping Oswald would have been distracted by the jewel encrusted Fabergé egg in the case next to the ravens.

‘Then I’m afraid you’ll be leaving empty handed’, Oswald said with faux sympathy.

He slowly lowered the umbrella so the point was directed at Ed’s chest. 

‘Now, hand them over before your fingers get burnt’, Oswald concluded.

Ed’s eyes were drawn to the tip of the umbrella which appeared to be hollow and reminiscent of a gun barrel.  
He had to physically stop his fingers from clenching in case he damaged the carvings.  
Oswald could be so childish sometimes!  
He just had to have the toy that someone else was playing with!  
Ed inhaled slowly to calm himself before asking:

‘Is that an umbrella or-‘

‘Am I just happy to see you?’ Oswald interrupted, nostrils flaring.

‘I was going to say ‘a flamethrower’?’ Ed said with just a trace of a smug grin, ‘I can see the way the air’s rippling at the end of it’.

‘Very observant of you’, Oswald said.

He didn’t lower the umbrella and Ed didn’t let go of the statues.  
Both men recognised the stalemate: the figurines were made of wood. If Oswald turned on that flamethrower they would be swiftly reduced to worthless kindling.

‘If you wanted to see me Penguin, you only had to ask’, Ed taunted, buying time as he considered an escape route that would allow him to keep the figurines, ‘You didn’t have to engineer this little scenario’.

Oswald, stung by Ed’s insinuation (which conjured up unpleasant memories) took a tighter grip of the umbrella.

‘Don’t flatter yourself Nygma. I simply took advantage of an opportunity’.

‘How did you know I’d be here anyway?’

‘Your little sidekicks loosened their tongues quite quickly after a few on the house martinis spiced up with Ivy’s chemicals. If you’re going to send (what were their little codenames?) ‘Echo’ and ‘Query’ to the Lounge to spy on me, tell them to hide their question mark tattoos’.

‘If you’ve hurt them-‘

‘I’m actually insulted you sent such low quality henchwomen to spy on me! Don’t worry, I wouldn’t waste the energy dispatching them. At least, not without you there to watch’.

Ed was about to retort but noticed a rythmnic tapping.  
He glanced to the left and noticed one of the large windows was flapping open.  
It hadn’t been open a minute ago and they were three stories up.  
Which meant-

‘Do you have some _high_ quality henchmen with you?’ Ed asked, heart hammering, ‘Like, right now, with you?’

‘As a matter of fact’, Oswald smirked and clicked his fingers.

The double doors into the exhibit opened and four heavy set men in black filed in. They took up position around Oswald, two on each side. Ed saw the meaning behind the formation: Oswald’s slight stature emphasised the size of the hulking shapes standing to attention beside him.  
Ed was too busy surreptitiously scanning the dark corners of the high ceiling to pay much attention to Oswald’s obvious power play. He cursed inwardly when he couldn’t see anything in the gloom.

‘Why do you ask?’ Oswald asked, unsettled by Ed’s distracted demeanour. 

Ed was obviously uneasy but not about being outnumbered. Oswald’s stomach dropped when he saw Ed’s eyes widen as if he had noticed something high above them. Oswald resisted the urge to look and hoped Ed was only trying to distract him.

‘Because we’re going to need them’, Ed answered, meeting Oswald’s eyes before continuing, ‘I see without seeing, to my eyes, darkness is clear as daylight. What am I?’

Oswald gave an odd shudder and Ed saw he understood. He saw Oswald fight the urge to turn around even as his henchmen looked at each other, confused as to why they weren’t hurting anybody yet.

‘In this room?’ Oswald asked, in a tight, quiet voice, ‘Right now?’

Ed nodded slowly and he saw Oswald’s eyes close as he mentally prepared himself for what was coming.

‘Um, Boss’, one of the henchmen asked, ‘What does that-‘

All Hell broke loose before the unfortunate thug could finish his question.

 

Ed and Oswald burst through the door leading to the opposite wing of the museum and slammed it closed behind them. They leant their backs against it, listening to the sounds of the distant commotion as the interloper clashed with Oswald’s goons.  
As both of them tried to calm their harsh breathing from their unexpected pelt to safety, Ed realised Oswald was holding his hand.  
He vaguely remembered Oswald grabbing his wrist in the commotion when Batman had swooped down from above and leading him from the room as his goons engaged the enemy. Ed had been frozen in place, his brain still whirling with escape plans but unable to pick one under pressure. For Oswald, instinct had taken over and he had simply ran for it, leaving his goons as a distraction.  
But he hadn’t left Ed.  
Ed felt a momentary glimmer of gratitude which was quickly extinguished by the realization that Oswald had likely only been trying to protect the figurines which were safely in Ed’s other hand.  
Ed, now that the danger had passed, snatched his hand from Oswald’s, trying to ignore the look of hurt that flashed in Oswald’s eyes before they resumed scowling at him.

‘Why warn me?’ Oswald demanded, ‘Why not just let him-‘

Ed hurriedly hushed him and Oswald’s jaw snapped shut. They were far from safe just because Batman was temporarily distracted. Even goons as big as Oswald’s rarely lasted long. 

‘I needed you to call your henchmen in to cover our escape’, Ed interjected, ‘Come on, over here’.

Ed went to the window and opened it. Oswald stood beside him and both men looked down. This part of the museum overlooked Gotham Bay and the chilly Winter night made the dark waters below seem like a bottomless void lit only by occasional golden glimmers of light reflecting from above.

‘Penguins aren’t known for their flight capabilities’, Oswald commented, his light-hearted tone just about covering his nervousness.

‘We’re not going to fly, we’re going to climb’, Ed outlined, pointing to the right, ‘We shimmy along the ledge until we reach the fire escape. I assume you have a car waiting’.

‘You don’t?’

‘Thanks to you my chauffeurs are drugged and probably tied up in the Iceberg Lounge right now’, Ed deadpanned.

‘Fine’, Oswald grumbled, making sure Ed could see the umbrella, ‘But you’re going first’.

Ed was about to argue but then had a better idea. He opened his jacket and placed the figurines in the specially enlarged inside pocket. The statue nestled inside and Ed re-buttoned his jacket.  
Insurance to make sure Oswald didn’t try anything when his back was turned.

‘Scared?’ Ed teased as he lifted one long leg over the window ledge.

‘Cautious’, Oswald corrected, ‘I’m not crazy like you’.

‘Don’t call me that!’ Ed snapped even as he climbed out onto the ledge.

‘Less talking, more escaping!’ Oswald demanded, conscious that he couldn’t hear the distant struggle between Batman and his henchmen anymore.

Ed turned to retort but as he did, his shoe caught a sliver of ice that had been caused by a leaky gutter high above.  
He didn’t scream as he fell. There was no time.  
He just caught a glimpse of Oswald’s gaping mouth as his ankle gave way and he slipped from the ledge.

Oswald tried to scream as Ed fell but for some reason, his throat felt like it had shrunk to nothing. A pathetic, whispered ‘No’ left his lips and it seemed the world slowed in reply to it. It felt as if his heart had stopped as he watched Ed’s splayed body grow smaller and smaller, his white face staring up at Oswald as his brain struggled to process what was happening.  
Oswald, seeing the dark water and Ed hurtling towards it, knew what was about to happen.  
And there was nothing he could do about it.

Ed hit the water hard but immediately surfaced, the cold water like knives in his chest and limbs.  
He thrashed desperately, the water churning around him as he choked, blinded by the droplets permeating his glasses. His limbs were like weights in the water, the shock of the impact and freezing temperature chilling the blood desperately pumping through them. His heart felt too large for his chest, it felt as if it were squeezing up his throat! His brain was like static: disjointed thoughts struggling to cope with the shock assaulting his body as he struggled to stay afloat. One panicked thought kept thundering through his brain and dragged him down into the darkness even as his savage kicks began to weaken and his fingers went slack.  
An endless refrain to sing him to sleep as the light vanished into a height he could no longer reach.  
_I can’t swim…_  
_I can’t swim._  
_I can’t swim!_

 

Oswald growled as he puffed and yanked on Ed’s sodden jacket, pulling his unconscious body on to the shore. He cringed as his injured knee pulsed from the cold of the water and droplets fell from the end of his nose. His whole body ached from the exertion of the swim he had just endured. He felt his gritted teeth chatter but pushed the freezing pain to the back of his mind, focusing only on Ed.  
He had reached him a few seconds after he had gone under but had been forced to use his umbrella to break a floating sheet of ice that Ed had slipped beneath. He noted the blood pouring from his fingers onto Ed’s green suit and vaguely remembered desperately using the metal of his umbrella to break the ice. The metal had slipped in his hand, slicing his fingers and the cold water was ironically helping to stem the bleeding.  
Once he was sure Ed’s feet were clear of the water, Oswald crawled to his side and checked Ed’s pulse.  
Heart hammering when he couldn’t detect one, he ripped open Ed’s top button and began to apply compressions to his chest. He cursed when there was no response: Ed’s eyes were closed and his lips were an unsettling, pale shade.

‘You idiot!’ Oswald snapped, a lump forming in his throat as he continued pumping Ed’s chest, ‘You stupid, stupid, _stupid-‘_

He whimpered as he felt his lip begin to quiver.  
Casting aside his pride, he fastened his mouth to Ed’s and exhaled hard before pumping again.

‘You don’t get to die!’ Oswald hissed in between bouts of CPR, ‘You hear me?! You don’t get to do this!’

Oswald gave over to his heaving sobs as his tears peppered Ed’s pallid face.

‘God damn it Riddler!’ he screamed, ‘Don’t leave me!’

‘You…you called me…‘ Ed’s shaky voice began but he was abruptly silenced by the impact of Oswald’s high speed, open handed slap against his cheek.

 

‘Ah- _a-choo!’_

Ed blew his nose and shivered. He huddled closer to the fireplace, blowing into his cupped hands. 

‘Don’t be so dramatic’, Oswald said, ‘You didn't even have a bullet in you. Put your feet in this’.

Oswald placed a basin of warm water on the floor and Ed obediently placed his bare feet inside. He pulled his blanket around his body even tighter, trying to warm his bare limbs. He had regained consciousness in Oswald’s office, wrapped in the huge, thick blanket and dressed only in his green briefs. His cheeks were still burning that Oswald had obviously seen the question marks printed on them. The only good thing was that Oswald had either been unwilling or unable to remove them. Ed resolved to be grateful for small mercies.

‘My face still hurts’, Ed grumbled.

‘On the bright side, you’re not dead’, Oswald replied unconcernedly. 

‘Due to the circumstances, I suppose I should be grateful for your enthusiastic application of mouth to mouth’, Ed said, sighing as he felt the warm water ease his frozen feet.

‘I didn’t hear you complaining at the time’, Oswald said, taking a seat opposite Ed.

‘That was because of the water in my lungs’.

‘And the vomit that came up afterwards’, Oswald deadpanned, ‘My suit jacket’s ruined’.

‘I suppose the carvings will help soothe the pain of your loss’.

Both men regarded the figurines on Oswald’s desk. Thankfully they had survived the plummet and subsequent soaking without negative effect.

‘Not as much as the knowledge that we are now even’, Oswald said, reaching over to stroke one raven’s head with his index finger, ‘You saved my life once. I’ve now returned the favour’.

‘Do you mean when I found you in the woods or that time when Butch lunged for you at ‘The Sirens’? Because I count twice’.

‘I’m also counting the multiple occasions when you tried to kill me so, actually, by my count, I’m ahead of you’.

‘Does your count include when you froze me?’ Ed asked acidly.

‘Just saved you from drowning in a frozen harbour didn’t I?’ Oswald countered, shrugging.

Ed let the matter drop as he was distracted by the bandages wrapped around Oswald’s fingers.

‘What happened to your hands?’ Ed asked.

‘You went under the ice and I had to break it’, Oswald said, crossing his arms to deliberately hide his hands, ’Why were you thrashing around like that anyway?’

‘I can’t swim’, Ed admitted then rolled his eyes at Oswald’s expression, ‘No need to look so shocked. I grew up on a farm’.

‘The key is not to try and fight the water, just lie on your back and float. Believe me, I know’.

‘I’ll keep that in mind the next time I’m drowning and you’re not around to take pity on me’.

‘You always overthink things. You realise that’s why Batman beats you all the time? Instead of trying to outmatch him, perhaps you need to change your tactics’.

‘By becoming an informant like you?' Ed said snidely, 'People say you’re more of a stool pigeon than a penguin nowadays’

‘If I’d left you in the harbour, you could have said ‘hello’ to those same people when you hit the bottom’, Oswald sniffed, ‘Occasionally, yes, I assist the Batman with inquiries when our interest align but when they don’t, like tonight…’

Oswald trailed off and considered the statues.  
He would have to come up with an explanation for his presence at the museum. He was supposed to be a legitimate businessman.

‘Maybe you do need Huginn and Muninn here more than I do’, Oswald half joked, ‘To remind you not to keep making the same mistakes over and over’.

‘You know their names?’ Ed asked.

‘Of course I do. Odin’s ravens, ‘Thought’ and ‘Memory’. You think you're the only one who’s ever picked up a book?’

‘Why do you want them anyway?’

‘I have a buyer lined up in Denmark who expressed interest in them. You?’

Ed didn’t answer and Oswald scoffed.

‘I thought so. As usual you just wanted them for the sake of having them. Honestly, you steal all these things and you never know what to do with them. What do you do? Sleep on them like a dragon’s hoard?’

‘It’s not about the prize’, Ed said sulkily, secretly hating that Oswald had guessed correctly about his collection, ‘It’s about the game. Something you never understood’.

‘I understand that a prize has to be worth my while to risk getting my nose broken by a grown man dressed as a flying rodent and yes, I know bats aren’t rodents. I am using it deliberately as a pejorative term’.

‘I didn’t say anything’.

‘You were thinking it’.

‘Impressive’, Ed said, raising an eyebrow, ‘Shall I add telepathy to your long list of talents?’

‘You can put it right next to swimming if you like’.

‘But not modesty’, Ed said, shaking his head.

‘That’s not a talent, it’s an evolutionary trait for the distinctly average. Present company excluded of course’.

‘Should I be flattered?’

‘I know you’re flattered’, Oswald smirked, ‘I can read you like a book’.

‘I see you haven’t dropped the habit of feeding your own ego’.

‘It’s quite voracious I’m afraid. Speaking of ego, I'm not the one with a henchwench on each arm’.

‘And I’m not the one with a nightclub full of attractive women in fishnet tights and bowler hats’.

‘I thought you approved of bowler hats’.

‘Is that why you picked them?’

‘Not unless you’re admitting you wear fishnet tights’.

They both laughed but upon noticing each other laughing, stopped as if embarrassed to be caught in the act. Both men were feeling relaxed in each others company which ironically made them both feel an increasing sense of unease.  
They both enjoyed verbal sparring and the exchange they had just had had been akin to a tennis match of wits, matching barbs blow for blow. It had been ages since they had been able to converse with someone on their wavelength.  
Neither one had realised just how long it had been.

‘Where are my clothes anyway?’ Ed asked, changing the subject.

Oswald felt irrationally crestfallen at the question.  
Was Ed planning to leave so soon?

‘Being cleaned and dried. You can have them back tomorrow’.

‘Were-were you the one who undressed me?’

‘You were freezing and there was nobody else to do it’, Oswald said neutrally, ‘And…you did the same for me once’.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the fire crackling and casting dancing shadows against the walls of the office. Ed noticed that Oswald had turned on the heating as well as lighting the fire: the aches of his body and residual effects of his near drowning were nearly gone.

‘Is that why you saved me?’ Ed asked quietly, ‘A sense of obligation?’

‘Entitlement. If anyone’s going to have the honour of killing you, it’ll be me’.

Ed nodded in polite acknowledgement even though Oswald’s threatening words were totally at odds with his resigned face. Oswald wasn’t looking at him, choosing instead to gaze into the fire. His green eyes shone gold as they reflected the flames and Ed noticed how raw and red they looked.  
Had Oswald been crying?  
When he had been on the brink of consciousness he thought he had heard what had sounded like sobs but he must be mistaken.  
He and Oswald were enemies.  
Weren't they?

‘But not tonight?’ Ed prompted.

‘You’re not at your best’, Oswald said simply, resting his head in his hand, ‘It wouldn’t be fair’.

There was silence again.  
Ed looked at the bandage on Oswald’s exposed hand: every finger save for his thumb and pinky were wrapped up. He had really hurt himself.  
Ed was coming to the uneasy revelation that Oswald’s actions in saving him hadn’t been about the statue after all.  
But what could he gain from this scenario? Ed was in a vulnerable position but for some reason, Oswald had not taken advantage.  
They were just sitting there talking.  
Like they were friends.

‘You really jumped in after me’. 

Oswald knew it wasn’t a question and gave no answer.

‘That was quite a height’, Ed continued.

‘I didn’t have time to notice’, Oswald said as he rose from his chair.

‘Penguin, I-‘

‘Not now’, Oswald said as he walked past, ‘Please. Just…get some rest. Don’t make me regret my decision not to kill you’.

Ed gave a laugh at Oswald’s continued façade, too tired to argue about Oswald bossing him around.

‘Thank you Oswald’, he whispered.

Oswald’s breath hitched at Ed’s use of his real name as he reached the door. 

Ed was surprised to hear Oswald’s quiet voice reply just as the door closed.

‘You’re welcome’.


End file.
